10 Day Countdown
by FlyingMachine1
Summary: 10 days until the movie comes out on DVD! A series of oneshots that will count down until that day! Co-Written with the awesome author, Laree England.
1. 10 Days Teamwork

**A/N: Hey! So, in case you haven't heard, The Three Musketeers movie is coming out on DVD in 10 days! Yay! Each day I will be posting oneshots that count down until the big day! Some are written by my good friend Laree England and some will be written by me. Without further ado, here is the first story written by me.**

**Disclaimer: We don't own The Three Musketeers, but boy I wish we did!**

**10 days left!**

Teamwork

"The view from up here is amazing!" called Porthos to his three friends. The musketeers had just finished a mission in southern France and had decided to treat themselves to a ride home through the mountains. As Athos took in the sight from where he sat on his horse, he had to agree with his friend.

The four of them were riding along a ridge that seemed to be miles high. From this height, their panoramic view appeared to stretch on forever. Far down below, Athos could make out green valleys with small villages and towns and far off in the distance, he could just see the sharp outline of the blue mountain peaks to the north. The view was similar to the one they encountered on the airship nearly a year ago.

"Why don't we take a break," suggested Aramis. "It's getting to be about lunch time and I think the horses are in need of a rest."

"Finally!" boomed Porthos as he jumped off his horse and stretched. "My backside needs a break and I'm starving!" The big man led his horse to a tree and quickly tied the reins around a branch. Athos, D'Artagnan, and Aramis copied Porthos' actions and rummaged around in their saddle bags for the meals that they had packed.

Athos sat down and took out his bread and cheese. It was a perfect day. The sun was shining and a cool mountain breeze kept the air from being uncomfortably hot. Even Athos had to admit that it was hard to ignore Mother Nature's infectious positive mood.

D'Artagnan sat down beside Athos and let out a contented sigh as he stretched out in the sun. Moments later the two were joined by Aramis and Porthos.

Just as the four were starting to enjoy their meal, there was a sudden commotion from behind them. The musketeers turned around just in time to see six men charge out of the trees towards them. The musketeers barely had time to grab their weapons before the highway thieves were upon them.

Although the men were not nearly as skilled as the musketeers, they were far from easy opponents. Two men had charged Porthos, who was fighting with his walking stick as well as his sword. Aramis had immediately taken one out with a perfectly thrown dagger and was now in a duel with another. The fifth man had charged Athos and the last man was fighting with D'Artagnan, the thief's greater size helping him to slowly push the boy towards the cliff's edge.

Athos sighed in frustration as he fought the thief. They did not have time for this! Was it too much to ask for one simple meal? Athos' growing irritation fueled his fighting and he delivered a crushing blow, forcing the other man's sword to fly out of his hand and land several feet away.

The man quickly held up his hands and backed away toward the forest, motioning for his fellow crooks to follow. The two men who had been fighting Porthos quickly picked up the man that Aramis' dagger had taken out and Aramis' man followed them back into the surrounding trees. The only thief who remained was D'Artagnan's man, who was so focused on the fight, that he had not noticed his leader's beckoning.

Athos didn't want to intervene with the duel, the boy could take care of himself, but the man did have quite a bit more raw strength on the boy and the older musketeer grew more and more nervous as D'Artagnan was forced closer to the cliff's edge.

Making a quick, if not impulsive, decision, Athos quickly closed the distance between himself and the fighting men, who had finally made their way to the very lip of the rock face. Athos bought his sword point up between the man's shoulder blades.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll drop your weapon and follow your friends back into the forest." Athos said in a low voice. He was growing more and more annoyed with these cowardly men.

The man harshly jabbed his sword into the ground and D'Artagnan lowered his, casting Athos a grateful look that was slightly tinged with annoyance at having Athos take away his opponent.

"Now put your hands up," ordered Athos. D'Artagnan gave the man a slight smirk as he slowly raised his hands.

"If you insist," mumbled the man before he lunged forward and gave D'Artagnan a rough push.

D'Artagnan gave a startled cry as he stumbled back, his feet half off the side of the cliff. His arms were swinging wildly like windmills in an attempt to regain his balance.

Athos watched in frozen terror as the boy tipped backwards, almost as if in slow motion. Suddenly, Athos found his senses returning as he got over the initial shock and he threw the man out of his way, lunging forward as the boy fell over.

"D'Artagnan!" he cried as he managed to grab the boy's ankle at the last second. Athos was just about to allow himself to sigh in relief when he realized that he was slipping over the side of the cliff as well. It seemed that he had put a bit too much power behind his jump towards the boy.

At the last second, Athos felt a hand wrap firmly around his wrist and he looked up to see that is was Aramis gripping his arm. Then, however, he realized that the combined weight and momentum from himself and D'Artagnan was pulling the former priest over the edge with them.

_Well, this is it. _Athos thought to himself as he closed his eyes. _ Never thought it would end like this. _He tightened his grip on D'Artagnan's ankle, trying to offer some kind of comfort to the boy in what he was sure was their final moments.

Then, as quickly as their fall had begin, it suddenly stopped. Athos hung there with his eyes closed, swinging back and forth for a few moments before he finally dared to open his eyes. He looked around, confused. Why weren't they dead?

D'Artagnan was obviously wondering the same thing as he raised his head awkwardly from his upside down position, casting Athos a confused look before his eyes traveled up higher. Athos followed his gaze and looked up to see that Porthos had grabbed Aramis' wrist with one hand and the hilt of the sword, which was still jammed in the ground where the thief had left it, with his other hand.

The four men swung in silence for a moment, taking in the reality of the situation, when Aramis spoke up.

"Is everybody alright?"

"Well," Porthos began, "I guess I've been worse. I'm not sure how much longer I can hold this though."

Aramis nodded and closed his eyes as he readjusted his hold on Athos.

"Athos, how about you?"

"We're all hanging off the side of a bloody cliff. I don't think any of us are alright." said the man sardonically. Aramis gave a slight chuckle.

"Ok, Athos is fine. How about you, D'Artagnan?" Athos felt D'Artagnan once again struggle to look up at the men above him.

"I'm f-"

"Boy, I swear, if you end that sentence with the word 'fine' I will drop you." Athos cut in.

"Athos," D'Artagnan began to argue. He stopped, however, when Athos gave his ankle a slight shake in warning. The boy sighed in defeat.

"Alright, alright. My head hurts a bit from being upside down like this, but I'll live." D'Artagnan said as he once again tried to lift his head so he was the right way up. "So, who has a plan?" asked the Gascon.

"Porthos, I don't suppose that you could pull yourself up, could you?" asked Aramis hopefully.

Porthos took a deep breath and pulled up with all his strength. The musketeers felt themselves raise a small amount before Porthos let out a big breath and angrily gave up his attempt.

"No," the big man said between labored breaths. "Sorry, lads. Can't-can't do it." Aramis squeezes Porthos' hand.

"It's not your fault. We'll think of something else." reassured the former priest. The four men once again hung in silence as they desperately tried to think up a good plan. D'Artagnan was looking at their surroundings when something caught his eye.

A good sized branch was growing out of the side of the cliff about five yards to his right. Growing up towards a tree sitting on the top of the cliff, gnarled roots jutted out in all directions. D'Artagnan felt a smile spread across his face. It was perfect.

"Hey guys," called D'Artagnan, breaking the silence. "I think I've got a plan."

Athos looked down at the boy and felt a sense of dread begin to creep its way through him. An impish grin was growing on his face and an eyebrow was arched up in a way that suggested he knew what he was about to say was ridiculously dangerous and stupid. Athos hated that look.

"Well, do tell. Don't leave us hanging." Porthos gave a chuckle at his own joke and Athos rolled his eyes.

"See that branch there?" Athos looked to where the boy was pointing and felt his previous sense of dread grow as he began to develop an inkling of the plan. D'Artagnan continued.

"Well, if I can get over there, I can climb up those roots and help to pull Porthos up. Then we'll pull you two up and problem solved!" The boy smiled up the musketeers, obviously proud of his plan.

"And how exactly do you plan on getting over there?" questioned Athos warily.

"Well," began D'Artagnan, suddenly seeming a bit more hesitant about the plan. "I was thinking that if we got enough momentum, you could throw me."

"Absolutely not, D'Artagnan." snapped Athos quickly. There was no way he would be tossing the boy like he was a sack of grain! The chances of them missing, or not throwing him far enough were just too great. D'Artagnan, however, didn't agree.

"Athos, what other option do we have? Do you have a better plan?" D'Artagnan asked. Athos just sighed. No, he did not have a better plan. They had really gotten themselves stuck this time. "Look at it this way, Athos. Either we die here without even trying to live, or we give survival a fighting chance and at least try to get out of this." Athos looked down at the boy, who was in turn staring up at him with pleading eyes. "Please, Athos. Just give it a shot."

Athos shook his head and sighed. _'Oh, this is a bad idea'_ he thought to himself. He did know deep down that the boy was right. They were running out of time, judging by the increasingly tired look on Porthos' face. They had to act now or not at all. But damn it, Athos didn't like this plan!

"Fine, boy. I swear though, if you die, don't come crying to me!" D'Artagnan rolled his eyes and chuckled.

"Sure, Athos. Now, we need to start swinging to get enough momentum." The four men began to twist their bodies to move back and forth. Porthos cringed as the increased movement made holding the three men up more difficult. Suddenly, the big man felt the sword anchoring them to the cliff pull out of the ground a bit from the added strain.

"Guys," Porthos tried to get their attention, but the three men were distanced by their swinging.

"Ok, we throw on three," said Aramis.

"Guys," Porthos tried again as the sword shifted once more.

The three men swung forward as Aramis called, "One,"

"Guys, the sword," Porthos called desperately.

"Two,"

"The swords going to-"

"Three-"

"GUYS!" Porthos finally bellowed. The sword was slowly slipping further and further out of the ground. "The sword is-" Suddenly, the blade pulled all the way out of the ground and the four musketeers' stomachs dropped as they began to fall.

As he was falling, D'Artagnan felt a had wrap around his arm and he looked over to see that it was Porthos who had grabbed him, forming the four men into a ring. Athos let go of D'Artagnan's ankle and instead grasped the boy's hand tightly in his own.

As they fell, the musketeers subconsciously pulled closer to each other, seeking comfort in what was sure to be their final moments together.

"I love you all!" Porthos called his three friends.

"We'll meet again in Heaven," said Aramis.

D'Artagnan spoke up. "You three are the most loyal friends anyone could ask for."

"It's been an honor to call myself a brother to all three of you." Athos stated as they continued to fall.

A sort of calmness engulfed the men as they accepted their fate. Athos could feel the coldness of the air rushing past him, it whistled in his ears and whipped his hair and clothes around. The ground drew nearer and nearer and he closed his eyes and waited.

There was a deafening crash everything went dark. Athos found that he was surrounded by a breath taking coldness and that he was suddenly very wet. '_Wet?' _he wondered. He then realized that he was floating upward and without warning, his head broke through the surface and as he looked around wildly, he realized that he was in a river.

Gasping for breath, the man managed to swim to the waters edge where he then heaved himself up onto the land, struggling to even out his breathing.

A sudden thought occurred to the man and he shot up, looking around frantically. Where were the others? Looking to his right, Athos let out a sigh of relief as he saw three other slumped figures on the bank of the river a few yards off. He shakily got to his feet and stumbled his way over to his waterlogged friends.

Athos' relief grew as he saw his companions were all alive and well, other than being extremely shaken by the whole ordeal. He sank down next to the other men and they all sat in silence for a while, still amazed that they were all alive.

The longer they sat there, however, the men became more and more embarrassed about their less than manly confessions they had made while falling. Seeing as they weren't dead, each man regretted admitting their inner feelings. Of course they all knew what they had said was true, but shouting out the true meaning and importance of others' friendship isn't exactly something a musketeer does.

As the men started to regain their composure, Athos stood up and finally broke the silence, saying what each man was thinking.

"We never speak of this again." the man said warningly and the other men nodded. They couldn't agree more.

**A/N: The next story will be up tomorrow! Thanks for reading and reviews are GREATLY appreciated! **


	2. 9 Days Flowers

**A/N: Here is story number 2! This one was written by the lovely Laree England. Now sit back, relax, and enjoy!**

**9 days left!**

Flowers

Athos looked at his pocket watch again. He was growing antsy, constantly shifting his back weight back and forth between his feet. The hot summer sun beat down on his back, and a little patch of perspiration had begun to form above his brow. He looked over longingly at the old bar across the road, but he knew that he didn't want to leave D'Artagnan, not after the young boy had sheepishly and embarrassedly asked him to come and advise him. He wrenched his eyes away from the bar and to his companion. D'Artagnan was currently weighing two bouquets of flowers between his hands, a look of complete concentration displayed across his young features. Athos shook his head. Only D'Artagnan could put this much devate into deciding which bouquet of flowers to get his girlfriend for Valentine's day.  
>Athos walked back over to D'Artagnan, sighing as the boy put the two bouquets back onto the small vender's table.<p>

"I'm sure that she would be happy with a dozen roses, D'Artagnan." Athos said, looking at the ten bouquets that D'Artagnan hadn't even touched.

D'Artagnan shook his head, picking up another bouquet. "Constance is too special for roses."

Athos couldn't help but smirk at the love-struck puppy before him. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen someone so hopelessly in love, or, rather, when he himself had been in love. Athos immediately shunned himself from thoughts of Milady.

D'Artagnan seemed to become more and more unsettled as his selection dwindled down. Athos observed the left over bouquets, and spotted a collection of white flowers whose petals were dusted with a bright blue. Green sprigs popped up from between the flowers.  
>Athos picked the arrangement of flowers up and held them up for D'Artagnan to observe. Before Athos knew it, the flowers were out of his hand and paid for, and D'Artagnan was making his way down the street with them. Athos jogged up to catch up with the young man.<p>

"These are perfect, Athos!" D'Artagnan exclaimed, beaming at him.

Athos shrugged. "Just my duty as a-" Athos paused for a moment. "What am I to you, exactly?"

"Like a father," D'Artagnan blurted, and then upon realizing what he said, turned the same color as the roses they left behind.

Athos was just as startled as D'Artagnan was for a moment, and then trying to make light of the conversation, he chuckled at the blushing boy next to him. "Alright. Just my duties of being like a father to you, my dear D'Artagnan."

The embarrassed young man just nodded and continued walking. Before long, though, D'Artagnan began blabbing again. However, the closer that they got to the king's palace, the more nervous and shaky D'Artagnan became.

"What if she doesn't like them?" he worried aloud, looking at the flowers with sad eyes.  
>"You'll be just fine D'Artagnan. Something tells me that the young Constance would love anything that you put in front of her." Athos said, finding the young boy's nervousness amusing.<p>

D'Artagnan looked over to his idol, his eyebrows raised slightly. "You think so?"  
>Athos nodded, and D'Artagnan was grinning again.<p>

They were almost at the edge of the small town, D'Artagnan practically wringing the flowers, when a rather unfortunate thing happened.

"Hey!" a man's voice floated over to them. "Look at that, Laurence! Who would've thought that the musketeers were each other's valentines!"

A loud howl of laughter peeled across the street, and D'Artagnan froze where he stood. Athos looked down at himself and noticed that they had unfortunately kept their uniforms on.

"I see it, Carvey! Look at those pretty flowers! Never know what you'll see on Valentine's day, eh? Haha!" a second man shouted back.

D'Artagnan's hand went to his sword hilt, but Athos grabbed his arm tightly. "No," he hissed. "Ignore them. You've got a date, remember?"

"Wonder where their off to? Hide behind His Majesties walls?"Another howl of laughter.

Athos saw a familiar fire spark in D'Artagnan's eyes. He had seen that same fire the day that they met, when the young boy had foolishly challenged him to a duel. He knew what was coming, and warningly said, "D'Artagnan-"

The flowers still clutched in one hand, D'Artagnan forcefully drew his sword, pointing it in the direction of the voices. They were sitting on a pile of crates, tankards sloshing in their hands.

"Oh, defensive!" the man whom Athos guessed was Carvey exclaimed.

"One mustn't dishonor one of His Majesty's guard!" hooted Laurence.

"How about you come over here and I'll show you just how right you are?" shouted back the rash D'Artagnan.

Carvey grinned and slapped his tankard down and unsteadily got to his feet, drawing his own blade. "Today's even better than I had expected!"

Athos looked between D'Artagnan and Carvey. The latter would be easy to beat, but looking up at the tall clock tower, he realized that D'Artagnan was already late for his date.  
>"D'Artagnan…" Athos hissed, but D'Artagnan was in an irretrievable state.<p>

D'Artagnan flung himself into battle, his blade crossing Carvey. From the first clash you could tell that Carvey had rarely fought in his lifetime. It was only a matter of minutes until carvey was kneeling on the ground, hands flung up in surrender.

D'Artagnan haughtily walked away from the backed down man, but as D'Artagnan replaced his sword back into its scabbard, the young man realized that his hands were horribly empty.

"Constance's flowers!" D'Artagnan cried, looking at Athos in despair.

Athos shook his head. "No time now," he said, pointing up to the clock. "You're already late."

D'Artagnan looked at the clock, his lower lip sticking out slightly. "What am I supposed to do? I can't just go without any flowers!"

Athos shoved the younger man in the back towards the palace. "She'll be much more upset if you are any more late that you already are!"

Taking Athos's point, the young and foolish musketeer sprinted to the palace.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

D'Artagnan stopped just before the courtyard, looking on in disappointment at the awaiting Constance, sitting on one of the beautifully decorated benches, looking around for him. How was he supposed to go up to her without anything to offer? It was like going to a ball in rags. You just didn't do it. But what choice did he have? He was paying for his actions. He should have just ignored the men like Athos had said. Why didn't he listen to the older man more often?

Whilst looking down at his boots in shame, the young man's eye caught on something. A patch of lilies, growing out of His Majesty's large pond. He plucked one, sighing at the paling comparison to the flowers that he had cast aside during his duel.

Athos's words floated back to the young man: Something tells me that the young Constance would love anything that you put in front of her. Gathering up all his courage, D'Artagnan stepped into the courtyard.

Constance saw him in a moment, and her face lit up like the sun. She unabashedly ran to D'Artagnan, flinging herself into his arms. He buried his face into her hair, breathing in her heavenly scent. He kissed her neck and pulled away slightly, holding up the single lily. She took it, her head cocked slightly to the side, her eyes quickly flitting to the patch of flowers from which he plucked it.

D'Artagnan sighed. "I'm sorry, I know that it's not much at all. I had had a beautiful bunch of flowers for you, but-but then…"

"You did something completely cocky and foolish?" Constance finished for him, smirking slightly.

D'Artagnan nodded, looking down at the ground. "Pretty much."

Constance giggled, and D'Artagnan looked up in confusion. Why was she giggling?  
>"You think that I only care about the kind of flower I get?"<p>

she asked, and from the look that D'Artagnan gave her, she guessed the answer was a yes. She shook her head. "Oh, D'Artagnan. The only thing that I care about is the boy that presents them to me."

D'Artagnan raised his eyebrows, and seeing that she wasn't getting anywhere, she just stood up on her toes and kissed him. The lily slipped from her fingers as D'Artagnan wrapped his arms around her waist, and she wrapped hers around his neck. Flowers forgotten, they spent the rest of their time in that courtyard, and when D'Artagnan made it back home that night, he knew that it had been the best Valentine's day that he had ever had.

**A/N: Now see that little blue button down there? Press is and unleash your thoughts upon us!**


	3. 8 Days Love

**A/N: Alright, this next story written by me is a bit of a drabble and short, so I apologize if you don't like that sort of stuff… anyway, thank you to all who reviewed! I can't even convey how happy Laree and I are for how well this is doing so far!**

**8 days left! **

Love

Athos sat alone beside the warmth of the fire. Aramis, Porthos, and D'Artagnan had long since bid him goodnight and left with yawns to their own rooms. Now, as the clock on the wall indicated that the hour was well past midnight, Athos found himself staring deeply into the dancing flames in the hearth. It was at times like this, when the dim glow of the fire formed long shadows across the room, that Athos'deeper and more painful memories resurfaced and churned about in his head like an agonizing typhoon of thoughts and people that should have long been forgotten.

There was one memory in particular, however, that he only allowed himself to reminisce on occasion. It was a remembrance so painful, so horribly raw, that merely rippling the surface of the recollection caused his heart to clench and the gap it left in his soul to intensify.

He would think back to how life used to be. When he was a whole and happier man. The gentle touches, the bashful smiles that would light up his whole existence. The feeling of complete and unwavering bliss that came with just being near her. Back in the days of serene walks while holding hands and the amazing and indescribable sense of having found the missing piece to your very being. She was unlike any other women he had ever known. She was brave and smart and almost more stubborn than he was. He would think back upon those voices from the past and the icy fingers around his heart would squeeze a bit tighter and the hollow space in his chest would grow a bit deeper.

Sitting in that chair by the flickering radiance of the fire, Athos remembered how he had been cast aside by the one who he had given his all. The one who he had loved. The one who had left and never looked back into his eyes that had been so filled with misery and disbelief. The one who had twisted and burrowed her way into his core. The one who he would have sacrificed anything for.

Only when in the company of his own loneliness would Athos admit the most troubling, yet most truthful, realization of all.

She was still the one he loved.

**A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope it wasn't too cheesy… I wrote this while listening to the song I Gave You All by Mumford and Sons and if you haven't heard them before, I highly recommend that you do because they are really good! As usual, reviews are greatly appreciated!**


	4. 7 Days Hold My Hand

**Hey everyone! FlyingMachine1's internet is down, so I'll be your pilot for today! (Haha? Get it? FlyingMachine…pilot…oh, never mind) So this is Laree England speaking! This is a story written by me for you, I hope you enjoy it, even though, based on most of your reviews, you guys aren't so big on romance :~) No matter! Still read, enjoy, review!**

**Disclaimer: We don't own the Three Musketeers.**

Hold My Hand

They immerged from the storm and a collective sigh of relief was drawn on the airship. D'Artagnan stole a glance over at Constance, and he saw that even though the young lady looked a little paler than normal, she seemed to be shakily relieved as well. She even looked over to D'Artagnan and gave him a smile. D'Artagnan was about to return the gesture when the sky grew dark.

The young man looked up, his legs almost giving out from under him. His mouth went dry and he couldn't help but feel everything; retrieving the diamonds, saving Constance, had all been for nothing.

The sky was blackened by a hundred airships, uniform to the one that they had just left in the storm. D'Artagnan could see the cannons and flamethrowers being unveiled, and they were all locked on one target: the small airship that hardly stood a chance.

D'Artagnan went to the side of the ship and looked to the ground, the only hope that they still held. But the ground was not to be seen. It, too, was blocked out by those horrible airships.

The young man stumbled backwards, breathing heavily. The impossible had happened: the impossibility to escape. And they knew that these ships were under orders to leave no one alive.

D'Artagnan looked over desperately to Athos, hoping that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance that that familiar look of calm was still displayed across the musketeer's face, like everything was under control, like he had expected this to happen and he had a plan. Instead, he had a look painted across his demeanor that D'Artagnan had never seen. The look of defeat. The look of inevitable, uncontrollable defeat.

Athos' voice sounded distant as he spoke. "Be brave, men,' he said, looking out into the sea of airships.

D'Artagnan found himself at Constance's side. She stared wide-eyed at the ships before her. It killed D'Artagnan to see her like this. He would have given anything to have Constance safely on the ground at that moment, finding out in a few days of his death. But no, Fate had not been so kind. Constance was condemned to the same doom as D'Artagnan and his fellow musketeers were.

The young man could hear the airships' captains shouting out orders. He could hear the weapons lock into place, and a terrible silence followed.

"D'Artagnan?" came Constance's weak, whispering voice.

"Yes?" D'Artagnan whispered back, his heartbeat ticking off the last seconds that he had left.

"Hold my hand."

D'Artagnan reached over and interlocked his fingers with Constance's, the words "I love you," etched on both of their lips as their worlds erupted into flame.

**Reviews much appreciated!**


	5. 6 Days Light

**A/N: The character "Etienne" belongs to the amazing author Suthern-bell85. If you haven't read her stuff then seriously stop reading this and go read her stories! Just come back to this one when your done please. Anyway, now that I have some internet, here is a story that is hopefully happier than my last one! **

**6 days left!**

Light

The wind blew strongly as Athos made his way down the torch lit streets of Paris and toward the apartment he shared with his three companions. As he turned his head to the right, a particularly fierce gust of wind battered his face, taking his breath away. He had experienced the feeling of sudden breathlessness caused by the wind before and it never ceased to puzzle him. It was strange how a sensation that lasts only a few moments can leave a person gasping for breath with a feeling of something not far from panic running through one's veins.

Athos pondered the strange feeling as he continued his way home. Currently, D'Artagnan would be the only one there as his guard duty had ended early today. Aramis has mentioned something about a "tutoring" session with a Mademoiselle Lafevre, which meant he wouldn't be home until well past midnight, and Porthos had stated that he would be heading to Étienne's after his duties.

Although he would never admit it out loud, Athos was looking forward to spending a quiet evening with the boy. It had been a long time since they had last been able to sit by the fire in companionable silence enjoying a good glass of wine.

Athos finally arrived at his home and was about to open the door when he realized that it was already slightly cracked open. He scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion when a scuffling noise suddenly sounded from the inside. With the visions of his quiet evening quickly fading and one hand on the hilt of his sword, Athos cautiously pushed the door open.

The sight that greeted him made the earlier feeling of breathlessness and panic return. In the midst of a mess of upturned furniture stood D'Artagnan, his sword drawn and attempting to point at all four of the strangers that were surrounding him, each one of them bearing a sword of their own. As Athos drew his own blade, he was surprised to see that he recognized the four men. They were well known burglars and thieves that had had run ins with both the musketeers and the Cardinal's guards many times. They were clearly stupider than he had thought because anyone with an ounce of intelligence knows not to invade the house of a musketeer, let alone the house of four highly trained musketeers.

At the moment, the four dimwitted men had their backs to Athos and were unaware that he had come home. D'Artagnan, who happened to be facing him, cast Athos an annoyed glance, though the older man could tell that he was not the cause of the boy's irritation. Athos was also annoyed with these daft men for disrupting his evening.

As Athos raised his sword, the firelight glinted off the blade, creating a small ball of light that flickered around on the wall. Athos grinned as a mischievous idea entered his mind. He held a finger up to his lips and motioned for D'Artagnan to hold on. The younger man gave the slightest of nods in response, so not to tip off the thieves of Athos's presence.

"Why don't you just hand over anything of value, kid," sneered the tallest and apparent leader of the four thugs. "You do and we wont have to hurt you."

"How about you all get out of my house before I run you through!" countered D'Artagnan, tapping his sword against the other man's weapon.

"We shall see who is being run through after I am running you through!" D'Artagnan rolled his eyes at the pathetic retort as the man raised his sword. The leader was just about to strike when something on the wall caught his eye.

"What's that?" he asked, lowering his sword slightly and gesturing to the wall behind D'Artagnan.

"What's what?" asked the young musketeer while he attempted to hide his smile as he realized Athos's plan.

"That! That point of light on the wall there! What is it?" he asked again as he pointed, lowering his sword altogether. He and his three companions watched in confusion as the spot of light flickered up onto the ceiling and began to move overhead.

As it started to move behind them, the four men turned. Still looking up at the light, the leader didn't notice that he had turned to face Athos until there was suddenly the tip of a blade no more than an inch away from his face.

"That," Athos said with a smirk, "is the last thing you will ever see unless you get the hell out of my house," The leader gulped loudly and stared nervously at the sharp tip that was practically touching his nose. He quickly dropped his sword and held up his hands, his wide eyes never leaving Athos's rapier.

"D-don't want any trouble now," the frightened leader stammered. Athos raised a dark eyebrow in response. "Come on, boys, let's get out of here." the thief mumbled before he turned and ran out of the house, his three lackeys following close behind.

All was quiet for a moment before Athos turned back to face D'Artagnan. The young Gascon was grinning from ear to ear.

"That was the most ingenious thing that I have ever seen, Athos!" D'Artagnan exclaimed happily. Athos, however, was not quite as amused.

"Do you realize what could have happened if I hadn't come home when I did, boy?" the older musketeer snapped, though the remark lost some of its heat as he noticed the look of admiration that gleamed in D'Artagnan's eyes.

"Honestly, Athos? You saw those men," retaliated the boy, stubbornness ebbing its way onto his previously elated features. " they were brainless thugs. I could have taken them with my eyes closed."

Athos let out a sigh of frustration. "Yes, they were brainless. That means that they do not know what is just plain reckless, which can be dangerous."

D'Artagnan looked as if he were about to argue, but thought better of it and sighed.

"You're right, Athos. In the future I'll try to be more careful." The older man raised an eyebrow in a disbelieving manner. "Alright, so I wont, but it's the thought that counts."

Athos tried to hide his smile as he turned toward the kitchen. He desperately needed a drink.

As the older man walked back out of the kitchen with a fresh cup of wine, he found D'Artagnan sitting by the fire with his sword in his hand. Athos found himself smiling as he watched the boy attempting to get the light to glint off the blade as Athos had done earlier.

As Athos approached the boy, he couldn't help but take out his own sword and manipulate the light so that it shone off of D'Artagnan's weapon, temporarily blinding the boy.

D'Artagnan flinched back before turning around to face Athos. "Oh, aren't you funny," he said sarcastically, although he laughed as he continued to blink away the bright spots that danced in his eyes.

Athos cast D'Artagnan a smirk as he sat down in the chair next to the younger man.

"That really was a clever trick, Athos." stated D'Artagnan, regaining the look of admiration in his eyes. Athos sighed as he thought back to the day's recent events and he found himself glaring over at the boy.

"Why is it that trouble follows you more closely than your own shadow, boy?" the older man asked warily. The Gascon gave a slight laugh.

"Just lucky, I suppose." he said. Athos let out a huff.

"Well, if that is what you call luck, then surely you are the luckiest man alive."

D'Artagnan paused for a moment before smiling warmly. "I like to think so."

Athos only gave a contented sigh and leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of his wine and closing his eyes. Those thieves might have disrupted his evening, but it was almost worth it to receive that look of admiration from D'Artagnan.

Athos took another drink of his wine and silently cursed the boy for making him go so soft. As the older man thought more about it, he came to realize that the boy was a lot like his little trick of the light from earlier. Similar to the blade, D'Artagnan could see the light in almost any situation and reflect it onto those around him.

'_So maybe I am going soft,_' Athos thought as opened his eyes to see D'Artagnan trying once again to get the light to bounce off his sword. '_but maybe, just maybe, I don't really mind._'

**A/N: ok cheesy ending… but still, thank you for reading!**


	6. 5 Days Vacation

**A/N: Sorry this is kind of late, I'm not the fastest typer... Anyway, here is another story! Enjoy! **

**5 days left!**

Vacation

Athos could feel D'Artagnan leaning more and more heavily against his shoulder as they waited to be summoned into Treville's office. They had only just returned from a rather tiring, not to mention dangerous, mission to uncover a Spanish spy.

Athos glanced down at the boy and the older musketeer's features softened as he took in the younger man's disheveled appearance. The mission had been particularly hard on all of them.

Near the end of their mission, the four men had managed to follow the spy into a tavern. They were planning on keeping a low profile until the spy left, when they would then ambush him and deliver him to justice. At least that was the plan.

What they hadn't accounted for was the young lady who had been practically throwing herself at D'Artagnan, much to Porthos and Aramis' amusement and Athos' annoyance.

"You have to stay focused on the mission!" an angry Athos had told the boy in a harsh whisper. D'Artagnan gave a long sigh.

"I know, Athos! I'm not trying to lead her on. I've actually been trying to show her that I'm not interested. Remember, I already have Constance!"

Athos let out a sigh and looked around the tavern. They had been in there for nearly an hour. It was growing late and their spy had to leave soon.

As Athos' eyes flickered around, he felt his annoyance grow as the young lady suddenly flounced her way over to their table. From next to him, Athos heard D'Artagnan curse under his breath.

"Why won't she just leave me alone? He whispered quickly.

"Just tell her you're not interested and to go away." Athos growled back. Why were women always nothing but trouble?

D'Artagnan sighed and nodded as the girl reached their table.

"You look lonely," she said while batting her eyelashes. "Could you use some company?" Athos stared at the girl. Could she not see him sitting right there? He was good company…

D'Artagnan shook his head. "Look, you seem like a really nice girl," the boy reached out and lightly put a hand on her arm. Athos resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Skip the pleasantries, he would have told the girl to get lost be now. "I'm jus not interested at the moment. It's not-"

"Hey!" a deep voice suddenly boomed from across the tavern. All three of them looked up to see a rather large, and rather angry, looking man lumber his way to their table.

"Hey, you get your hands off my girl!" the man shouted furiously as he slapped D'Artagnan's hand off the young lady's arm and pulled her close. "You trying to get my girl, huh?" the man advanced on D'Artagnan.

"No-I- she-" the boy stuttered, his mind still trying to catch up with the sudden change of events. Athos cut in with a steady voice.

"She was the one who approached us, although, we wish she hadn't." Athos added the last part under his breath. The angry man turned to face the girl.

"Scarlet, is this true?" he demanded. She looked up at him with big eyes, her face the picture of innocence.

"Of course not!" Scarlet stated defensively. "These two men just won't leave me alone! I told them that I already have a very nice man of my own and I wasn't interested. They were relentless though!" the two musketeers exchanged an incredulous look. What kind of girl was this?

As the man turned his rage filled glare back towards D'Artagnan, the boy suddenly wished that he and Athos had their swords. As part of the plan to blend in, the two musketeers had given their blades to Porthos and Aramis, thinking that the intricate musketeer swords would make them stand out.

Porthos and Aramis were waiting just outside the tavern door, waiting for their spy to emerge.

Back inside the tavern, tension was quickly rising. The angry man was practically looming over D'Artagnan, who was frantically trying to explain that he too was happily engaged in a relationship. The man, still not believing that the musketeer was innocent of flirting, only seemed to get angrier at hearing that he had a girl of his own.

"Look, I know it's hard to hear, but she was the one who approached me! I'm sorry, but-" D'Artagnan didn't get any more explanation out. The man had heard enough and was at the end of his rope. He grabbed the collar of D'Artagnan's shirt and shoved him up against the wall.

"Let go of me!" demanded D'Artagnan as he struggled to get free. The man, however, was nearly as big as Porthos and the boy stood no chance.

As soon as the man laid his hands on D'Artagnan, Athos was up out of his chair. The musketeer was around the table and behind the man in three strides.

"I believe," he said as he grabbed the man's shoulder and turned him around. "that he said to let go." with that, Athos pulled back his fist and gave the man a hard punch to the jaw.

The man stumbled back before Athos grabbed him by the shirt and, using his anger and frustration with the whole situation to fuel his strength, Athos tossed the man into a neighboring table.

As it usually works in places where large amounts of alcohol are consumed, the smallest things, such as someone crashing into your table and spilling your drink all over your lap, will send everyone into a tizzy. So, it wasn't surprising when Athos, who had been catching his breath from throwing the big man, looked up to find that he had started an all out bar fight.

'_Great'_ thought Athos. _'So much for keeping a low profile.' _Athos ducked as a chair flew over his head before he was suddenly tackled from behind.

As Athos fought off the drunken man, the giant boyfriend had gotten back up and was advancing on D'Artagnan.

All the while, Porthos and Aramis were waiting outside for the spy to emerge. It was going on two hours when they heard a loud crash from inside the tavern. They were about to go and see what all the commotion was when a man suddenly ran out the door. As the man darted down the street, the streetlamps illuminated the figure.

"That's the spy!" cried Porthos to Aramis as he recognized the man's clothes. The two musketeers took off down the street after the spy.

They chased the spy through the dark streets of town until the man slipped into a large barn.

Drawing their swords, the two musketeers slowly advanced toward the barn door.

"On three," whispered Porthos, motioning towards the door. "One, two, three!" the two men simultaneously burst through the wooden door, brandishing their swords. They had to stop short, however, in order to avoid running straight into the back of the spy.

Porthos, unsure of what else to do, seized the spy, who strangely didn't struggle against the hold. In fact, he seemed to be in a state of shock.

Aramis followed the man's petrified stare and felt himself freeze on the spot when his eyes landed on the ground.

There, sleeping in the hay, was a giant, sharp horned, bull.

"What are you-"

"Shhhh!" Aramis cut Porthos off sharply. "Look," whispered Aramis, pointing to the bull. "We'll be fine, as long as we stay quiet." Porthos nodded and started to slowly back up, dragging the spy along with him.

Meanwhile, the man in Porthos' arms was coming out of his original shock. Suddenly, he at attempted too escape Porthos' iron grip.

"Let go of me!" he yelled. All three men froze as the loud cry echoed in the vast barn. All eyes were on the bull as the big creature jerked awake with a snort and glanced around in confusion for a moment before his enraged glare rested on the three men.

The bull tossed his great horns before rearing back to charge.

"Run!" cried Aramis as he took off out the door. Porthos grabbed the spy, gave him a powerful punch to the jaw, threw the man over his shoulder, and sprinted off after Aramis. As the two men ran down the street, they could hear the bull's thundering hooves hot on their heals.

D'Artagnan felt a sudden presence behind him and turned around just in time to see the boyfriend swing a chair at his head.

D'Artagnan tried to duck, but the wooden chair ended up breaking as it struck his shoulder. The boy went down with a thud and the man was soon on top of him.

Far from out of ideas, D'Artagnan flipped over, bringing the man over with him. The two rolled, neither being able to gain the upper hand with the man's strength and D'Artagnan's speed. Finally, however, the man managed to get the upper hand and grabbed D'Artagnan's shoulders and gave the boy a mighty toss.

Athos had disposed of two men and was just finishing up on his third when he began to winder where D'Artagnan had gone. He had lost track of the boy when the fight began. Athos was just turning to look for him when something suddenly tackled him from behind. The musketeer fell to the floor with an _'Oof!' _and turned to see who was his attacker.

Rather then seeing an extremely drunk, half passed out man as he had expected, Athos was surprised to find D'Artagnan lying across him, looking equally as stunned.

"Sorry, Athos," the boy said sheepishly. Athos shook his head in frustration.

"I think we should leave," Athos stated. "Now." D'Artagnan nodded and the two musketeers detangled themselves and quickly got up.

Athos and D'Artagnan sighed in relief as they finally exited the hectic tavern. They were still trying to slow their racing heartbeats when they spotted Porthos and Aramis. As the musketeers came closer, a man's form became visible hanging over Porthos' shoulder. Athos also noticed that Aramis and Porthos seemed to be in quite a hurry. After a few moments, however, he saw why. A few yards behind them, a massive creature came into view. He had huge horns and looked rather angry. As the creature come closer, Athos was able to recognize it as a bull and it didn't look like he was m=planning on giving up the chase any time soon.

As the two running musketeers sprinted by, Athos and D'Artagnan joined them, both uncertain as to whether they should burst out laughing or yell in terror at the ridiculous situation.

"What the hell happened?" yelled Athos. Porthos and Aramis, being too out of breath to give a detailed response, merely puffed out,

"Just keep running!"

And they did keep running. The four of them ran all night, even after losing the bull a couple of hours later. The musketeers finally arrived in Paris just after dawn. As they were heading back to their home, another musketeer walked up to them.

"Monsieur Treville would like to see you right away." the man said. The four men sighed, but grudgingly complied. The sooner they went, the sooner this whole mission could be over with.

After disposing of the spy and making the trek to the musketeer head quarters, the four men found themselves waiting to be called into Treville's office.

"Monsieur Treville will see you now." said a man as he poked his head into the room.

Athos gave D'Artagnan a nudge. The boy had begun to nod of against his shoulder.

"Come on, boy, on your feet." D'Artagnan snapped his head up and followed his friends into Treville's office.

Treville studied his four men who stood before him. They had just briefed him on their mission and the captain had to admit, they looked a little worse for the wear. Somehow, each musketeer seemed to be leaning on the other without any of them knocking the other over. Honestly, they looked dead on their feet. Although they had tried to straighten out their appearance before entering, their clothes were in a state of complete disarray and they were all covered in a layer of dirt and grime. All in all, they looked extremely tired and in need of a break. In fact…

"What you four need is a vacation." stated Treville, voicing his thoughts. Athos shook his head tiredly.

"We appreciate the offer, Sir, but one night's rest and we'll be ready to go in the morning." Aramis, Porthos, and D'Artagnan tried to give a sharp nod in agreement, but it ended coming across more as a sleepy head bobble. Treville crossed the room and stood in front of his men, looking each on in the eye.

"Look, you four. I know how you men are. I know that you all will continue to work until you drop. Now, I can't have my four best men dropping like flies, so if I have to, I will make this an order." The four men exchanged glances before Porthos spoke up.

"We could use some rest…"

"Great!" said Treville as he pushed the men towards the door. "I will see you four in two day's time. Have a nice vacation!" The musketeers were roughly pushed out the door. Treville leaned up against the closed door and let out a wary sigh. If he were lucky, he would get a whole day before the men came back and demanded to continue their duties.

The men trudged into their apartment and immediately disbanded into their rooms. Finally, after such a tiring mission, they got the rest they craved.

The next day, each musketeer got up late, catching up on their long deserved sleep. They all sat down at the table and Planchet was serving breakfast when Porthos spoke up.

"So, any plans for the day?" he asked all three of them. Each man looked to the other. Their vacation was so short notice that none of them had thought of anything to do or had made plans with other people. Aramis broke the silence that had enveloped them.

"I suppose that is will be nice to spend a quiet evening at home." he said slowly.

"Yes, I suppose it could be… nice." said D'Artagnan after a moment. The four men sat in silence, not knowing what to do next.

As the minutes slowly ticked by, the musketeers began to fidget in the stillness. Aramis was endlessly polishing his glasses as Athos swished his wine back an forth. Porthos was carving random designs into the table with his knife as D'Artagnan, being only eighteen and full of youthful energy, was quite literally vibrating from staying still for so long.

The clock on the wall was ticking loudly, the sound only making the silence stand out more. Porthos grew more and more tense with every tick and after a few more minutes, he finally snapped.

"I can't stand this damned quiet!" he yelled, flinging his knife across the table. The knife skidded across the wood until it bumped into Athos' wine glass spilling its contents all over the book that Aramis had been reading.

"Damn it, Porthos, you great oaf!" bellowed Athos as he stood up.

"Athos, this is the fifth time you've gotten your wine all over my books!" cried Aramis, who also stood up.

"Well, it's not my fault!" shouted Athos. "Porthos is the idiot who had to throw his knife!"

"I wouldn't have to throw my knife in the first place if it wasn't so quiet in here!" said Porthos defensively. Athos and Aramis only became angrier upon hearing this, however.

"Oh, and this is my fault?" asked Athos as Aramis said,

"I don't see how I'm to blame."

"Honestly, you two can be so boring sometimes." said Porthos heatedly. Athos' eyes glowed angrily.

"Boring? I'll show you boring!" with that, Athos ran to Porthos and tackled the man to the ground. As Porthos fell, his wine glass flew out of his hand and its contents splattered all over one of Aramis' many stacks of books.

"Not again!" shouted the former priest as he joined the fight, putting Athos in a headlock.

D'Artagnan watched from a distance for a moment before his bursting energy got the best of his and he leaped into the fray, clinging to Porthos' back in an attempt to bring the large man down.

Treville walked down the busy street feeling slightly guilty. There had been some robberies in the city and he wanted his four best men on the case. What he felt guilty about was putting an early end to their vacation. They had looked so worn out yesterday, they really did deserve some peace and quiet.

Treville reached the apartment and raised a hand to knock on the door. Suddenly, a loud crash sounded from inside and Treville swung the door open. The sight that greeted him almost make him slam the door closed again.

The apartment was in a state of pure chaos as furniture was toppled over and random objects were thrown through the air by the four men fighting in the middle of it all.

On one side of the room, Athos was holding Aramis in a headlock as the former priest beat the older man with a book, yelling something about wine stains.

On the other side of the disheveled room, Porthos was turning in circles, madly reaching for D'Artagnan, who was clinging to the bigger man's back.

Treville stood gaping for a moment before suddenly shouting.

"This is how you spend a vacation?" the four men paused, realizing for the first time that their captain was standing there watching them.

"He started it!" they all yelled simultaneously. Hearing the other's accusations, the musketeers returned to their fight in full force, as if nothing had happened.

Treville shook his head and slowly backed out of the apartment and closed the door. He could come back to get them in the morning. As he walked back to his office, Treville sighed and mumbled to himself.

"I need a vacation."

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Now press the blue button and unleash your thought upon me!**


	7. 4 Days Cat

**A/N: I apologize for the lateness of this one. I hope you guys like it!**

**4 days left!**

Cat

The shadows of the buildings grew longer in the setting sun as the four musketeers made their way down the familiar streets of Paris to their apartment. After a long day of patrol duty, Athos, Porthos, Aramis, and D'Artagnan were looking forward to some well deserved rest.

They were making pleasant conversation as they approached their home when Porthos suddenly paused.

"Stop!" he yelled, causing the three men's hands to immediately fly to their swords, their eyes looking wildly around for any potential dangers.

"What is it?" whispered Athos, not being able to spot a possible threat.

"Don't you see it?" Porthos asked. He looked at his three companions and seeing their confused faces, he pointed down the street toward their home.

"What's wrong with the apartment?" asked Aramis, whose eyes were searching the house for any signs of an intruder.

"No, not the apartment! It's what is _in front_ of the apartment." said Porthos with an exasperated sigh. Then, D'Artagnan spotted the creature that was troubling Porthos.

"You can't mean-"

"The cat?" Athos cut in, his eyes following D'Artagnan's gaze to the black furry creature sitting in the middle of the street.

"Yes, the cat!" yelled Porthos. Aramis, D'Artagnan, and Athos exchanged confused glances. "It's crossed out path!" the big man cried.

"And you point being?' asked Aramis as he put away his sword. Porthos looked at them incredulously, not understanding why they weren't as cautious as he was.

"My point," he said sharply. "is that it is a black cat and it had crossed our path. We can't walk through it or we'll have bad luck." A bubble of laughter escaped D'Artagnan.

"Are you really telling me that the mighty Porthos is afraid of a cat?" the boy questioned while attempting to keep his laughter at bay.

"It's not the cat I'm worried about," said Porthos stubbornly. "It's the bad luck he brings." Athos rolled his eyes.

"Honestly, Porthos, it's nothing but an old wives tale. Look," Athos walked forward, meaning to cross the cat's path.

"No, wait Athos!" Porthos advised desperately. "At least walk through backwards. That is supposed to ward off the bad luck."

"I will not walk the wrong way down the street looking like some idiot." said Athos as he crossed the path. Once he reached the apartment, he turned to face the amused faces of D'Artagnan and Aramis and the worried and slightly annoyed face of Porthos.

"See?" Athos asked. "Nothing happened. I'm completely f-" A sudden cascade of water poured down from one of the apartment windows, completely drenching Athos.

"What the?" Athos sputtered as water dripped from his soaked hair and clothes. Aramis and D'Artagnan were not even trying to hold back their uncontrollable laughter.

Athos looked up to the window to see Planchet leaning out with an empty bucket, unaware of what he had just done. He did, however, spot Porthos, Aramis, and D'Artagnan and he called down to them.

"Good evening, sirs!" he said cheerily, but then looked around in confusion. "\Where is Monsieur Athos?"

"I'm down here, you idiot!" roared Athos. Unfortunately, Athos' angry cry startled Planchet so much that he dropped the now empty bucket, which fell and smacked into Athos' forehead with a loud _Thunk! _The three musketeers watching were now roaring with laughter as Planchet hurriedly began to explain himself.

"Oh, Monsieur Athos, I was trying to empty the bath water and I didn't know you were there and-"

"Shut up, Planchet!" Athos barked and then turned to face the three laughing men. "And not a word from you, Porthos." he said threateningly before going inside and closing the door with a bang.

Still chuckling, Aramis made to follow Athos, but Porthos reached out to stop him.

"Aramis, you can't possibly be thinking of following him! You saw what the cat did." Aramis rolled his eyes.

"Porthos, that was the work of Planchet's own stupidity, not the work of a cat." Aramis shrugged off Porthos' hand. "Now if you will excuse me." Aramis walked directly through the cat's path and into the house. Porthos turned to D'Artagnan.

"Come on, lad. You still believe me, don't you?" the big man asked anxiously.

"I believe that you are in desperate need of some sleep." said D'Artagnan with a grin. He stepped forward and Porthos gave one last attempt with the boy.

"At least walk through backwards." Porthos demonstrated by backing through the cat's path, motioning for the boy to follow. "See? No bad luck here!"

"None here either." said D'Artagnan as he walked, right way forward, to the apartment.

"We'll see about that." mumbled Porthos as he followed D'Artagnan into the apartment.

Porthos opened the door and was forced to jump out of the was as Planchet flew by, rambling about getting wine at the market.

Porthos joined Aramis and D'Artagnan at the table, sitting down as far from them as possible.

"Why are you sitting over there?" asked Aramis.

"I'm keeping my distance from you two and your bad luck." replied Porthos, leaning back in his chair.

"Are you still going on about that?" called Athos as he emerged from his room where he had changed into dry clothes.

"Hey, you're the one who had the bad luck. You're proof that I am right!" Athos joined them at the table, sitting down next to Porthos.

"Oh, so Athos can sit next to you, but we can't" asked D'Artagnan as he feigned a hurt expression. Porthos nodded.

"Athos has already had his bad luck, so he's safe." The bigger man looked at Aramis and D'Artagnan solemnly. "You two are next."

Athos sighed and shook his head as he poured himself a glass of wine and passed around the bottle. They sat in silence for a moment before Athos suddenly noticed something on D'Artagnan's face. When he looked closer, he noticed that it was a small black spider that was crawling across the younger man's cheek.

"D'Artagnan," Athos said, leaning forward. "Don't move." Hearing the cautious tone in Athos' voice, the boy immediately froze.

"What?" D'Artagnan asked as Athos leaned closer, raising his hand in the process.

"There's a spider, right," Athos smacked his hand onto D'Artagnan's cheek, attempting to smash the spider. "there."

"Ow!" exclaimed D'Artagnan, rubbing his sore cheek as Athos looked down at his hand.

"Oh, I think I missed." said the older man with a frown.

"Ha!" Porthos suddenly shouted. "What did I tell you? Bad luck." D'Artagnan let out a low moan.

"Porthos, it's not bad luck. It's actually good luck that Athos got the spider off of me." the boy rubbed his reddening cheek. "Even if he missed."

"No, you're right, lad. Having a spider crawling on your face and Athos slapping you upside the head sounds like real good luck to me." said Porthos sarcastically. D'Artagnan sighed and shook his head.

"That's not the point." the boy said in a low voice. Porthos chuckled.

"Oh, but I think it is." said the bigger man with a smirk. "And Aramis," Porthos became suddenly serious. "You're next."

"Porthos, you know I don't believe in that sort of stuff." said the former priest as he got up and searched the room for one of his books.

"All in good time, Padre." said Porthos. Aramis sent him an annoyed glare before he kneeled down to continue his search for the illusive book in a large stack of reading material by the window.

"Ah, here it is." said Aramis as he stood up. "See, Porthos? Nothing bad hap-" there was a sudden crash of glass as a small object crashed through the window. The shatter was followed by a thud as the object struck Aramis in the nose.

Aramis reeled back with a hand over his now bleeding nose.

"What was that?" asked the former priest in a nasally voice. D'Artagnan got up and picked up the thing that had broken the window.

"It's a rock." the boy peered through the glassless window. "Where did a rock come from?"

"It was the cat!" shouted Porthos, the comment earning him three annoyed glares.

"Are you alright, Aramis?" asked Athos. Aramis prodded his bleeding nose.

"Yes, it doesn't seem to be broken. It'll just leave a bruise, maybe some swelling-" Aramis suddenly stopped as a though occurred to him. "What will Mademoiselle Benoit think when she sees-" Aramis clapped a hand over his mouth as he realized what he had just said. Porthos raised an eyebrow.

"Mademoiselle Benoit? I though you had said that you had never met her?" he asked with a smirk. Aramis sent him a withering glare.

"I don't know her. I don't know why I said anything in the first place." he said coldly as he wiped the blood from his face.

"Oh, I know why." said Porthos smugly. "It was the cat. You've all had bad luck and it was the cat's doing. You can't deny it anymore!" Athos was about to reply when a quiet meow sounded from the other side of the door. All four men paused and looked toward the source of the sound.

"It's that cat." said D'Artagnan.

"Get it!" shouted Athos as he, Aramis, and D'Artagnan all drew their swords and sprinted to the door. Athos threw the door open and the black cat jumped up and took off down the street, the three musketeers chasing after it, waving their swords madly as they did.

Porthos sat back and laughed. He was sure lucky that cat came along!

**A/N: So I wasn't super happy with that ending, but I really wanted to got this up! Thanks for reading! **


	8. 3 Days Seeking Solace

**A/N: Ok so a little warning on this one. Nothing major, but the beginning is a little darker than the previous stories Laree and myself have written, but I'm sure you guys can handle it. ;) **

**3 days left!**

Seeking Solace

_D'Artagnan was flying. All around him, dark gray clouds obscured his vision as a violent wind whipped from all directions. There was a foreboding feeling of tension and danger hanging in the air that made D'Artagnan uneasy. _

_There was a sudden flash of lightening before an earsplitting crash of thunder shook D'Artagnan's very bones. _

_The young musketeer paused, he could have sworn that he had heard something, voices, behind the roan of the thunder. _

_The thunder sounded again, but this time, the voices were louder. As the voices called again, D'Artagnan recognized them as the voices of his three companions, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis. The more prominent they became, however, the deeper D'Artagnan's worry grew. _

_The familiar voices sounded desperate, calling out in fearful, whispery, yells. They circled D'Artagnan, growing closer with each passing moment. Floating in the dark clouds, D'Artagnan finally realized what the voices of his three friends were saying. _

"_You could have saved us." said the airy voice of Aramis. _

"_You let us die." whispered Porthos fearfully. _

"_You mean nothing to us now, boy!" yelled Athos' voice, suddenly right next to D'Artagnan's ear. The boy jerked back at the sudden closeness, flinching at the angry and harsh tone in Athos' voice. _

"_I'm sorry!" cried D'Artagnan, feeling a combination of guilt, despair, and confusion. How had he let his friends die? _

"_Sorry won't do anything now, boy!" Athos called. Suddenly, his three friends faces appeared in front of D'Artagnan. There was something wrong, though. Their eyes were dull and lifeless, their expressions fearful and angry. That's when D'Artagnan realized with a pang of horror why their eyes were so motionless. _

_They were dead. _

"_No!" cried D'Artagnan. Then he was falling, the clouds turning into a gray blur around him. But D'Artagnan could still see the faces of this three friends, their voices still echoing all around him. _

"_It's your fault!" _

D'Artagnan jerked awake, his breathing ragged and his hair sticking to his sweaty face. The images of his nightmare flashed in his mind and he suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to be in the company of his friends, needing to convince himself that they were all still alive and well.

D'Artagnan swung his legs over the side of the bed and made his way across the cold floor to his door. He opened the door and quietly stepped out into the dark hallway. It was just past midnight and the three older musketeers were all asleep, making D'Artagnan have second thoughts on his quest for company. He really didn't want to wake them, but as he closed his eyes tiredly, the lifeless faces of his friends flashed into his mind once again. The horrifying images sent a shiver down the boy's spine and confirmed his decision to seek out the man who he hoped would be willing to allow him to calm down in his company. D'Artagnan stepped forward and slowly opened Athos' bedroom door.

Athos had been sleeping deeply when his door creaked open, years of finely tuned skills forcing him to awake at the sound. He turned over, looking for the cause of the noise when he spotted the silhouette of a small frame he instantly recognized as D'Artagnan. A seed of worry planted itself in his stomach, knowing that D'Artagnan would not disturb him at this hour unless it was something serious.

"What's wrong, boy?" whispered Athos when D'Artagnan didn't more any further into the room. The young man sighed and shook his head.

"It- it's nothing. I'm sorry I woke you." the boy turned and made to leave the room. Athos called out.

"D'Artagnan," he said, causing the boy to pause and turn towards the older man. Athos sat up and scooted over in his bed, holding up the covers in invitation.

D'Artagnan hesitated, but then slowly made his way across the room and laid down next to Athos, immediately curling up against the older man, as he usually did. As they lied there in silence, Athos was alarmed when he noticed that D'Artagnan was trembling and he reached out an arm and wrapped it around the younger man's shoulders, pulling him closer.

"What happened?" Athos asked softly. D'Artagnan sighed deeply before answering.

"I- I had a nightmare." he stuttered. The ghastly images suddenly reappeared in his mind and D'Artagnan pressed closer to Athos, attempting to forget the swirling clouds and distressed voices.

Athos could sense that the nightmare had really shaken the boy and he ran his hand up and down D'Artagnan's shaking arm in a comforting manner.

"Do you want to talk about it?" asked the older man. D'Artagnan hesitated before sighing shakily.

"Well," the boy started. "I was floating and I, well I heard voices. Your voices." The boy paused, trying to reign in his emotions. Athos stayed quiet, letting D'Artagnan take his time. The younger man took a deep breath before continuing. "And you were all- you were all dead," D'Artagnan swallowed hard. "and it was all my fault." Athos gently squeezed D'Artagnan's arm.

"D'Artagnan, it was just a dream. I promise that we are all alive and well." Athos said softly.

"I know, it's just, well, it was so real and I saw your faces and-" D'Artagnan's voice trailed off as the visions once again appeared in his head.

"D'Artagnan, it's ok. It's over now. None of us are going to die today." said Athos, realizing that making the distinction of none of them dying _today_ probably wouldn't be as reassuring as he had hoped.

Despite this, however, D'Artagnan's tense body relaxed against Athos.

"Thanks, Athos." said the boy. Athos was about to reply when he suddenly felt the younger man move against him as D'Artagnan started to get out of the bed.

"Where do you think you're going?" Athos asked, reaching up and grabbing D'Artagnan's wrist.

"I've kept you up long enough." D'Artagnan replied. Athos let out a huff and tugged the boy back down onto the bed.

"Just go to sleep, boy." said Athos as he pulled the blanket back up over both of them.

D'Artagnan smiled and shifted closer to the older man. Athos once again wrapped an arm around his young friend and closed his eyes.

Next to him, Athos heard D'Artagnan's breathing even out as he fell into a peaceful sleep. Athos thought back to the similar peaceful sleep he himself had been enjoying a few minutes ago, but realized that he wasn't really upset at being disturbed. D'Artagnan was safe and happy and that was all that really mattered to him.

**A/N: I know the whole nightmare thing has been done before, but I tried my hardest to make this original! I hope you liked it and thanks for reading!**


	9. 2 Days Misfortune

**A/N: We're getting close now! Also, no bears were harmed in the writing of this fic. Musketeers however…**

**2 days left!**

Misfortune

D'Artagnan took a deep breath of the country air. It's crisp freshness was a welcome change from the city's thick, somewhat smelly air. He and Athos had been assigned a patrol duty on Paris' outer boarders and the two country born men were more than happy to accept the duty. Porthos and Aramis hadn't been as lucky, as their were assigned to patrol a local tavern that had been serving some suspicious characters lately. Athos and D'Artagnan had rode their horses most of the way to their assigned position, but had dropped them off at a nearby stable, opting to walk and enjoy their time in the quietness of the countryside.

Their patrol was winding to an end as the two men made one last sweep of the tree lined border they had been assigned to. As they neared the trees, however, there was a sudden loud crash emitted from the forest, causing both men pause, their hands moving to their swords.

"What was that?" whispered D'Artagnan. The sound had been very loud, too loud for any small, forest dwelling creature to make. Athos scanned the trees with a critical eye, straining to discern anything out of place in the foliage.

Suddenly, the rustling sounded again, this time closer. Athos moved nearer to his young companion as unsettling images of bandits and other dangerous lurking beasts popping out crossed his mind.

The two men stood frozen as they listened for any small sound, hardly daring to breath. The crashing sounded again, this time, though, it was accompanied by a rather alarming scene.

Out of the trees lumbered a huge brown bear, it's dull black eyes fixed on the two men in it's path.

"Oh, this is bad." D'Artagnan whispered to Athos. The older man sucked in a breath at the large, dangerous creature standing before them. D'Artagnan was right. This was bad.

"Just back up slowly," said Athos as he took a few cautious steps back. "And stay quiet." D'Artagnan followed suit, their eyes never leaving the bear.

Their plan seemed to be working, out first. They managed to get a few good paces away before Athos' foot accidentally came down hard on a twig, snapping it loudly. The bear roared loudly at the sunned sound and charged at the only possible threat it could see: Athos and D'Artagnan.

"Run!" cried Athos as the bear advanced. Both men turned and began to sprint towards the city.

"You know we can't outrun it!" called D'Artagnan as he looked back to see the bear gaining on them. Athos looked around frantically for any source of help, his eyes finally landing on a tall oak tree a few yards ahead of them.

"That tree!" he shouted to D'Artagnan while pointing at the oak. "We need to climb up that tree!" the younger man nodded and headed in the direction that Athos had pointed.

The two men reached the tree and Athos quickly motioned D'Artagnan up it, waiting for the boy to climb up to safety before following himself. They climbed up as high as they could, not wanting to run any risk of the angry bear reaching them.

The bear reached the tree moments after the musketeers did. It circled the trunk a few times, occasionally swiping one of it's massive paws at the wood in an attempt to shake the men loose. As the bear continued to circle, D'Artagnan turned to face Athos.

"Well, now what?" he asked.

"We'll just have to wait for it to leave." Athos stated as he warily looked down at the bear, who didn't look like it was planning on leaving anytime soon. D'Artagnan sighed and looked up at the cloudy sky.

"Athos, I think it's going to-" the boy was cut off when a sudden downpour of rain fell from the heavens. "rain." he added as he blinked water out of his eyes. Athos heaved a great sigh. Could this get any worse?

Luckily, the rain did have one positive effect. The bear, who was already growing tired of it's unresponsive prey, did not enjoy the rain any more than the musketeers did and with a final swipe at the tree, at last retreated back into the forest.

D'Artagnan let out a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding as he watched the bear walk away. The men waited a few minutes, wanting to make sure the animal wouldn't be coming back, before they began to climb down from the web of branches.

On his way down, D'Artagnan failed to notice a rather sharp stump of a branch that was jutting out of the side of the trunk. As the boy slid down the wood, he let out a slight yelp as the stump cut into his hand. Athos' eyes were immediately on the younger man.

"What's wrong?" he asked as they both landed on the ground. D'Artagnan shook his head.

"It's nothing." he looked up to Athos, who raised a dark eyebrow. "Ok, I cut my hand on the tree, but it's fine." Ignoring the boy's reassurance, Athos stepped forward and took hold of D'Artagnan's wrist, holding it up and examining the shallow cut across his palm.

"This really isn't our day." said Athos with a sigh as he took out a handkerchief and wrapped it around D'Artagnan's bleeding hand. The cut wasn't that bad. He just took a mental note to remember to make the boy clean it out when they got home.

As the two musketeers made the long trek back to the apartment, the rain mercilessly grew in strength, soaking both men to the bone.

When they arrived at the apartment about an hour later, Athos and D'Artagnan hastily dropped their horses off in their stables, wanting nothing more than to change out of their waterlogged clothes and fall into a deep sleep.

When they entered their home, Aramis and Porthos were sitting at the table, waiting for them. Their light conversation came to an abrupt halt as they took in Athos and D'Artagnan's appearance.

Both men were soaking wet and covered with dirt, and was that a leaf sticking out of D'Artagnan's hair?

"What the hell happened to you two?" Porthos boomed. Athos cringed. Did they really look as bad as he thought they did? One look at D'Artagnan confirmed the thought. The older man quickly reached over and gently tugged the leaf loose from the boy's hair. He then turned back to Porthos and Aramis.

"Just had a bit of a rough day." and with that, he and D'Artagnan headed off for their rooms, changing quickly and falling asleep as soon as their heads his their pillows.

**A/N: ok, so I'm not particularly happy with this one, but I hope you enjoyed it!**


	10. 1 Day Abandoned

**A/N: Oh my gosh guys! Tomorrow's the day! Woo! At long last! Ok, anyway… on with the story!**

**The character Bayard belongs to Suthern-bell85, so all credit for the lovable skittish horse goes to her!**

**1 day left!**

Abandoned

D'Artagnan looked warily up at the darkening sky. The low, sinister clouds suggested that a storm was imminent. His borrowed horse, Bayard, was acting more skittish than usual, as he sensed the approaching storm's tension in the air. As a particularly strong gust of wind caused the horse to jerk nervously at his reigns, D'Artagnan leaned down and patted the beast's soft neck as he whispered in his ear.

"It's alright, Bayard. We'll be home soon enough." D'Artagnan once again looked up at the storm clouds overhead. He hopped the worst of it would wait until he got back to Paris. He had been sent out on an overnight solo mission to deliver a dispatch in south eastern France, the long trek being the reason why he was now riding Bayard rather than Buttercup. The mission had gone well and now the young musketeer was happy to be getting home to his three friends and a warm bed.

D'Artagnan rode homeward on a road that wound it's way through the forest. The clouds overhead were now a dark blue color and the wind was blowing in rough gusts, the force of them making D'Artagnan grip his reigns hard in an effort to stay atop his horse. A slight rain had begun to fall, the clouds finally seeming to let loose their massive load. D'Artagnan kicked Bayard into a slight canter, wanting to get home before he was completely soaked.

He was about half an hour's ride away from Paris when a streak of lightening lit up the sky, followed by a deafening boom of thunder. Bayard started at the lightening, but the thunder sent the poor horse into a tizzy. The creature took off into the forest, the boy on his back barely being able to hold on.

After overcoming the initial shock of his horse suddenly sprinting, D'Artagnan attempted to pull back on the reigns, but Bayard was too focused on his running to recognize his rider's commands.

Another clap of thunder sounded and this time, Bayard reared back on his hind legs with a shrill whinny, causing D'Artagnan to tumble off the beast's back and onto the wet forest floor.

D'Artagnan landed with an "_Oof_!" and looked up to see Bayard racing away, further into the forest.

"Great." mumbled the musketeer as he picked himself up off the ground. "My horse had abandoned me. Now I'll have to walk home and track the bloody thing down." D'Artagnan was just about to start his long trek back home when a sudden realization made him stop short. He had no idea where he was. The sun was completely obstructed by the clouds, so it's direction could give no indication. Also, the whipping winds seemed to be blowing in on all sides, providing no help whatsoever.

D'Artagnan huffed and pulled his cloak tighter around him, although the soaked material did little to provide any warmth. After picking a direction that he hoped was north, the young man started his journey, mumbling the whole way about how that blasted horse had better be ok when he found it

"Is D'Artagnan still not back?" questioned Athos as he hung up his cloak and hat, just having returned from patrol duty. Aramis shook his head.

"No, but I wouldn't worry. With the weather how it is, he is probably going at a slower pace for the horse's sake." Aramis looked over to the clock on the wall. "He's barely late, too."

"Yes, alright." Athos said with a sigh as he sat down at the table. He grabbed the bottle of wine that Planchet had left out for them and poured himself a glass. Unless the boy got home soon, this was going to be a long night.

The minutes slowly ticked into hours and there was still no sign of D'Artagnan. Athos had begun to pace, only casting Porthos a glare when he said that the man was going to ware a hole right into the floor. After looking out he window for what must have been the hundredth time and seeing that the rain had began to fall in thicker sheets, Athos made up his mind.

"I'm going out to look for him." he stated as he put back on his hat and cloak. Aramis sighed, but he couldn't protest, he was beginning to get worried a bit himself.

"Alright. We'll wait here incase he comes back. If you're not back in two hours, we'll come out and look too." said the former priest as Porthos nodded in agreement. Athos returned the nod before stepping out the door and quickly saddling his horse. He rode out into the rain, in the direction that he knew the boy should have been returning from, all the while mumbling about how that blasted boy had better be ok when he found him.

About half an hour later, Athos found himself riding through the forest, occasionally calling out D'Artagnan's name, though he doubted that the boy would be able to hear him if he had been standing right in front of him, what with this dammed storm.

Suddenly, there was movement to Athos' right and he felt hope glimmer inside of him as a familiar horse made it's way out of the trees. Athos' stomach dropped, however, when he noticed the horse, Bayard as D'Artagnan had called him, was riderless.

Athos quickly hopped off his horse and grabbed Bayard's reigns, knotting them to his own horse's before climbing back up and continuing his search with his friend's horse in tow. At least he knew that D'Artagnan had to be fairly close by.

After another twenty minutes of fruitless searching, Athos was just about to head back, think that the boy might have taken a different direction when a figure suddenly stumbled out of the bushes.

"Athos!" cried D'Artagnan as he looked up to see his friend, a smile quickly growing on the boy's face. The older man leaped down from his horse and jogged up to his friend, relief flooding through his, although it didn't quite show on the outside.

"Where the hell have you been?" questioned Athos loudly. D'Artagnan looked down at his feet, suddenly feeling like a small boy being scolded by his father.

"Well the storm spooked Bayard and so he threw me off and ran away and well," D'Artagnan gave a nervous laugh. "I kind of got lost."

"I knew that horse was nothing but trouble." mumbled Athos as he took hold of the boy's shoulder and steered him to the horses. With his hand on the boy, Athos came to realize that D'Artagnan was shaking quite badly from the cold. Athos reached up and removed his own cloak before draping it around D'Artagnan's trembling shoulders. The younger man looked up at Athos with a hint of defiance in his eyes.

"Athos, I'm fine. You'll get cold without your cloak." he said as he reached up to give back the cloak.

"You need it more than I do, boy. Besides, I'm not cold." Alright, so maybe that second part was a lie, Athos thought, but the first part wasn't and that was all that mattered right now.

D'Artagnan frowned at Athos for a moment, before dropping the matter and climbing up onto Bayard's back. He patted the horse's neck.

"Glad to see you're ok, boy. I would like it if you didn't do that again any time soon, though." Athos resisted the urge to roll his eyes. What possessed the boy to talk to horses as if he though they would respond, he would never know.

With that, the two men kicked their horses into a run and headed home.

As they arrived in the stables, the musketeers slid off their horses and D'Artagnan walked up to Athos.

"Athos," he said, waiting until he had the man's full attention to continue. "Thank you for finding me." Then, acting on a sudden impulse, he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Athos' waist in a tight, and somewhat wet, embrace.

Athos was surprised out first from the unexpected hug, but after a moment, returned it, saying, "Anytime, boy."

The two men pulled apart and D'Artagnan cast the older man a shy smile, being slightly embarrassed by his childish affection. Athos only reached out a hand and tussled the boy's unruly hair. The two men gave Porthos and Aramis a quick account of the day's events before heading to bed. Outside, the storm quieted and the rain let up to only a slight pitter patter on the roof, the muffled lullaby lulling the musketeers into a deep sleep.

**A/N: thanks for reading! Don't forget to look for the movie tomorrow! :D**


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